


A scene

by Demacrux



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-07 07:29:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demacrux/pseuds/Demacrux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A youth's night out at their first show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A scene

A scene, the scene, it's all the same. Everyone trying to prop themselves up so others would know their name. Everyone is heading out to the show, I'm going as well but they don't know. The boys are greased up, and tattooed even though most of the ladies are too. No in between, no beyond the divide, you're either a manly man, or a lovely doll. Girls are all done up to the nines, victory curls and updos all around. Most in dresses, all in heels, all trying to show that alternative sex appeal. Guys with creepers, jackets and jeans. Horror t-shirts, vests looking lean and mean. Everything such a fierce atmosphere with no room to breathe.If I show up looking as I do, would i get a reprieve. I love the music and the fashion is cool but there seems to be no way to mix the two.I'm neither here nor there when there is a conscious divide, I don't care to be a gal though I'll never be a guy. I see the hot rods pass by as I walk down the street, heading to the club where everyone will meet.Loud music blaring from each stereo, I'm tempted to dance as I go. But lo, I don't look like one of them, not of their scene, I'd get strange looks from everyone if I even dare start to sing. Petite kid, sneaker no heels, glasses, t-shirt and a tie to seal the deal, fingerless gloves, smeared lip gloss, they look a little smoky but nothing to be lost. Quiet demeanor, never a loudmouth but if the right song plays I'm ready to dance about. 

Outside the show, the crew is ready. Primping and making sure no one causes hell. Smokers amass, dark clouds gather in the air. I manage to walk near and hoping not to attract stares. The shyness in me things I should go home, but I want to see this band so bad, I really love them so. Everything is everything, going through mind, standing outside the door, biding my time. I observe the other showgoers, not knowing if they observe me. I'm sure there could be something to my invisibility.Finally the door is opened, I enter, handing over my ticket as a go. Some damn nice tunes are playing everywhere I go. I find myself a spot as I have no crew. I must keep here or someone will take it quickly, that I certainly knew.The audiences grows around me, I got make sure I can see. Hopefully no body will block the stage's visibility. Now I notice the looks, the glances the stares, the "what the fuck is she doing here?" I keep to myself still, I have to enjoy it alone. I will prove myself worthy of attending this show. 

The show starts, I wave at the lead and he blows a kiss back. That I didn't expect but hey, don't worry about that. The music plays and I getting dancing, quickly out of control. Moving across the floor in a way no one would know. Singing the songs out loud, as loud as I could. I shimmy, shake, slam and jam harder than I probably should. I acquire a few dance partners, though each last relatively brief. No one can really keep up with this tornado to this beat. Occasionally I find myself with a few kisses on my face. Where are these coming from, the people I can't quite place. All I know is I'm having fun and totally making the best. I wonder if anyone recognizes this androgyny with the binding of my chest. That a matter for another time not on the dance floor. I spin and sing and get picked and spun around some more. I don't care where I am going, I don't care with who. The music is my lover and for me that's nothing new. In the strangest of accidents I find myself dancing right on stage, everyone is going wild and I have nothing to say. I continue to move like a monster, nothing can stop me now. I must entertain while I can though I look like a child. Embrace the lead, crowd surf off stage, spin around several ladies, get swung swing-style. Movement and fun, laughter and joy. I could hope for nothing more, better than any toy. 

In the end, the show concludes and I depart the place a hero. I might not necessarily run with the scene but I'm surely no zero. Not some square to be beat, but a friend in all things grand. Fantastical, greatly original things that have not meaning other than because they are. Everything is everything go through my mind once again. I rifle through the numbers accumulated in my pocket and surely call them soon. But now I must rest from this spectacular adventure at the late-night show.


End file.
